


Bought and Sold

by Dellessa



Series: The Right Price [3]
Category: Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Slavery, F/F, F/M, Genderbending, Lima Syndrome, Mech Preg, Stockholm Syndrome, femmes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-13
Updated: 2015-01-02
Packaged: 2018-02-25 06:02:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 6
Words: 5,671
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2611091
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dellessa/pseuds/Dellessa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt- Femmes own the mechs- Mech auction</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Jazz looked down at his peds as he was led up to the platform. The crowd was large, and jostling against each other. He wondered, for a moment how it had come to this. When had the femmes taken over? When had they subjugated his kind? It was a horrible feeling, being treated as a piece of property, without feeling or sense of self. He didn’t even bother to keep track of the bidding. What did it matter? He had no control over this, or how the femme in question would treat him. 

The bidding finally stopped, a towering femme stepping forward. She took his leash and lead him away to the kiosk. Jazz’s spark pounded under his plating. He tried to act nonchalant. He tried not to feel, but in truth he was terrified. 

He wanted to go back home to the breeding facility he had lived in all of his life. He missed his nestmates. He missed the caretakers in the breeding facility. They had been the closest thing to creators that a mech like him could ever have. 

“Come,” the femme said, “I have places I need to be.” 

“I’m sorry, master,” Jazz mumbled. “I meant no harm.” 

“Sorries do me little good, mech. I haven’t the time for them, and don’t call me master. It is Mistress Prowl,” the femme said coldly. The femme stopped, and looked down at him, a frown marring her cold features. “And don’t grovel.” 

Jazz’s hands clenched together, another sorry on the tip of his glossa. In general femmes were always bigger than mechs, but Jazz was particularly small even for a mech. It was impossible not to feel threatened by this imposing creature, and harder still not to cringe away. 

“We are going to my home now. You are to keep it neat and tidy. You are not to step a ped out of the house without my explicit permission. When I come home you will have my energon prepared and ready for me. I have laid out instructions on your other duties. You can read, can’t you?” 

Jazz’s white optics became paler still, “Yes, Mistress Prowl. I can.” 

“Good, this makes things easier,” Prowl said as she lead Jazz through the confusing maze of a city. He didn’t think he could remember the path back if he wanted to. “I just made Captain, and there are certain things expected of me. I need sparklings, more than one. Otherwise bots will wonder. I do not need a scandal like the one that Lady Windblade and Chromia have been dealing with. I don’t need that kind of bad publicity. You will behave. You will know your place. You will look pretty by my side. You will host parties as a proper mech should. You will become an asset to my house whether you like it or not.” 

The femme led him into one of the massive living complexes. He had never been inside one, Prowl though, had a massive apartment to herself. Three stories, towards the top of the building. Jazz didn’t know how he was going to keep such a big place tidy. It was overwhelming. 

“Follow me, please,” Prowl said, and led him down a hall, opening a door. “These are your rooms. You may recharge here...if I do not require your services.” 

“Thank you mistress,” Jazz mumbled. 

“Come then, I want to see what I have purchased.” 

Jaz bit back a whimper. They had told him what to do at the breeding center. Lie back and let the femme do what she wanted. Endure it and it soon would be over. Prowl pushed him through the apartment, and into the large room that had to be Prowl’s berthroom. The berth was huge. At least four time the size of the little berth in the room that was now Jazz’s.

“Get on the berth.” 

Jazz climbed up, laid back, spread his legs and closed his optics tightly, hoping it would be over quickly. Prowl did not touch him though. He cracked an optic open and found the femme staring at him. 

“What are you doing?” she asked. 

“Y-you s-said---” 

“Mmmm...yes. I suppose I did. They taught you nothing at the center, did they?” Prowl sat down on the edge of the berth. “Just relax. I will make it good for both of us.”

Jazz didn’t see how that was possible. He had heard stories. Horrible stories. Interfacing was a thing to be dreaded. He had seen it. It hurt.

“Relax,” Prowl said again and reached out. Her frown deepened when Jazz flinched away. “I’m not going to harm you. What good would that do me?”

Jazz’s ventilations stuttered. “I’m sorry.” 

“There is no need for apologies. They did not treat you well in the breeding facility?” 

Jazz looked away, trembling and terrified. 

“That is answer enough. I may be a strict mistress, but I will not harm you. You are my responsibility, and I take such things seriously. Now, be a good mech and relax for me. Open up.” 

Jazz’s hands clenched at the mesh beneath him. “Please mistress. Please. I’m sorry.” 

“You’ve done nothing wrong. I just want to see you.” 

Jazz whimpered, but finally let his panel open. He closed his optics tight, as if expecting the worse sort of torture. 

Prowl touched him gently, circling the rim. The mech was still sealed. That was unexpected. “Shhhh....I won’t hurt you. Why are you so afraid?” 

“It will hurt.” 

“It doesn’t have to,” Prowl said. “I will give you time to get used to the idea. To get used to me. You will carry my sparklings. It is important you are happy and well.” 

Prowl climbed onto the berth and folded herself around Jazz, petting his plating. “Whatever they did to you at the breeding center, it is over now.”

OoOoOoOo

Prowl was curious. She had not expected her new mech to act the way he had. He was a timid thing, and it was obvious he had not been treated well at all. She had contacted the breeding center, and they had been overly defensive, and then offered to take Jazz back, and give Prowl a replacement. A better trained mech. Well she didn’t want a better trained mech. She wanted HER mech. Jazz already fit into that niche nicely. Once he had figured out she was not going to hurt him he had snuggled right up to her, clinging to her in his recharge. It was endearing. She liked the way his field felt against hers, the way he had fit in her arms. So small and subtle. Jazz was beautiful. No, she wouldn't give his mech back to those bots. Alarms in her processor went off. She didn’t trust the femmes that ran the facility, and had this feeling that they would make Jazz disappear permanently. There had always been rumours.

She ended up going through less reputable channels, easily hacking into their systems and records. Jazz was not even bred in the facility. He had been surrendered by his sire when the mech they had bought had failed to produce an heir. He was not the only mech the femme had sent away, not wanting to take responsibility for raising them. She had met the femme that had sired them, Astraea. She was part of Onslaught’s cadre. Prowl had strong feelings about THAT femme and the rabble that seemed to flock to her. She had finally gotten the femme that she wanted after the fifth try. Prowl had met her as well, Flamewar was going to be nothing but trouble. Perhaps it was a kindness for them to leave Jazz. She couldn’t imagine that he would have grown up well surround by such ruthless and cruel femmes. Flamewar had already went to court for abuses against slaves. There had been ‘accidents’, horrible accidents that had left the mechs offlined or crippled.

Swindle had, of course, managed to get the femme out of any charges. Prowl was not sure who the femme had blackmail material on, but it had to be someone very high up to manage the way that she did.

Prowl vented. One day she would clean up the foul underbelly of the city. One day he would climb up to a rank high enough to do so. Sadly, she had not reached that day yet. Now was not the time to move. She did not have the backers. She did not have the power, and she needed to keep her mech safe. In time though. She had a plan.


	2. Chapter 2

Jazz was a solid warmth against Prowl’s side. She had grown very attached to the mech in the time that he had come to live with her. To her pleasure he proved to be clever, a fast learner and had an innate talent for music. She had been entertaining the idea of getting him lessons, but she had not decided on what instrument she would prefer him to focus on. He had picked up the basics of a few, apparently. He was also neat, and followed her instructions to the letter. The clever little mech would make an excellent consort. 

Prowl could not wait to see his form rounding out as he carried, which surprised her. She had not been that enthusiastic about the idea at first. It had been a necessity, though, good femmes had house mechs. It was just the way things were. You didn’t have a house mech, and then bots would start to talk, then the next thing you know there was a scandal falling over your helm. She had seen it happen enough times already, and she was smart enough to realize that her career could not afford that kind of a scandal.

It was fortunate that she was quickly becoming fond of Jazz. He was a lovely little thing. his colors complimented her own quite nicely. She just wished he would be happy. Sure, he pretended to be so, but she could see the fear in his optics when he thought she was not looking. 

She pet his plating, and watched those lovely white optics brightened, “Hello Beautiful.” 

“Good sol, Mistress Prowl. You are here late,” Jazz said softly. “You let me recharge too late. I have chores to do.” 

“I have taken the sol off, and you shall as well. I have a surprise for you. I have been looking into matters that concern you, about your creators. You carrier was sold back to the breeding facility. If you would like I could bring him here to live with us. He could help you take care of the sparklings when we have them. Would you like that?” Prowl tilted Jazz’s chin up, and looked into his optics. “Answer truthfully, sweetspark.” 

“S-sparklings? I d-din’t think you w-wanted me. You d-didn’t take my seals,” Jazz stuttered, field full of confusion and uncertainty. 

“I want you very much, but I want you to become used to the idea, used to me.” 

“I wish you would just get it over with. I was afraid you didn’t want me. That you were going to send me back. I don’t want to go back. I like it here,” Jazz whispered, and then put his hand over his mouth with a gasp. It was far more than he had meant to say. 

“You did not answer my questions though, would you like you creator here?” 

Jazz nodded, unable to find the words. 

“Good,” Prowl kissed him gently, and pushed Jazz back onto the soft berth. “We will retrieve him later this sol, but first...perhaps I should make you mine. I don’t like you wondering about your place.” 

Jazz looked up at the big femme that loomed over him. Her wings flaring out aggressively. “I don’t like wondering either,” he said. 

Prowl kissed across Jazz’s chin, down his neck cording, and nuzzled into the crook. “Open for me then.” 

Jazz squirmed, field flaring as he let all his panels and port open for his mistress. 

“So beautiful, and willing. I wonder how it is you weren’t snatched up before I found you. They missed a treasure,” Prowl said, as she reached out and touched Jazz’s sparkfilm. “Such a precious gift.” She leaned forward, letting her glossa lap the film, making it sizzle as it pressed against Jazz’s spark and melt away. Jazz’s spark flared brightly, as white as his optics, as bright as a miniature sun. Prowl reached out, digits flicking across the surface and making Jazz cry out and arch into her touch. “Beautiful, now let me see you overload, my sweet.”

OoOoOoOo

Jazz was exhausted by the time Prowl was done with him, and sore enough he was more than content to curl up on the berth with Prowl. He was equally glad that Prowl had insisted that they get cleaned up before falling back into recharge together. Prowl had cleaned Jazz’s plating, and waxed him, finally buffing out his plating until he shone in the dim light. He shifted, and winced. He had expected his seals being taken to hurt, and it had, just not in the way that he had expected. There was a brief moment of pain and that had just melted away into pleasure, but afterwards he was sore from the stretch. Sore in a nice kind of way.

It was surprising. Prowl was so gentle with him. It was far different from what he had been told would happen. Very different. He was taken care of. Pampered. He would even say spoiled. He had expected beatings. And they would be going to get his carrier today. His spark did a little leap in his chest. He had only vague memories of the mech. He remembered being held, and looking up into the mech’s gold optics, and tears. He knew that his carrier had not wanted to give him up, but he had had no choice. He had been taken away as soon as was possible. 

“Do you feel up to the trip?” Prowl asked, interrupting his thoughts. 

“Yes. I want to meet him. Thank you,” Jazz looked down shyly. 

“You do not have to thank me, sweetspark. As I said. I want you to be happy,” she said and kissed Jazz on the forehelm, tugging him close. “I like to see you smile. If this will make you even happier, I am all for it.” 

“It will,” Jazz said, a little smile inching on to his face.

OoOoOoOo

Jazz held onto Prowl’s hand tightly as they walked through the breeding facility. It was a scary place. Even scarier on the other side. He moved close to Prowl as they were led to a waiting room. 

“Your purchase will be brought to you momentarily,” The femme said as she shut the door. 

Prowl led Jazz onto the couch at one end of the room, and pat the seat beside him as he sat down. “Nervous?” 

“Very much, mistress.” Jazz scooted closer, tucking himself against Prowl side. 

Soon enough the door swung open, and the femme returned followed by a mech that looked very much like Jazz. “I have all of the paperwork for you,” she said and offered a datapad to the Praxian. “I hope you enjoy your purchase. I just need you to sign a few things, please.” She offered Prowl another tablet and a stylus. 

While Prowl was signing the paperwork Jazz craned his helm and studied the other mech. He looked tired, and beaten. He helm hung and he stared at the ground not saying anything. It made Jazz’s spark hurt to see it. “Ricochet?” He whispered, and the mech looked up sharply. Jazz gave him a tiny smile and a little wave. 

The mech stared back, his frown deepening, “Do I know you?” 

“Yes, you should. I am one of the sparklings you gave up,” Jazz said gently. 

“What? No...she said....she said...that...you were all...all...offlined.” 

“No,” Jazz said. “She sold us back to the breeding facility. I met one of the others too, Meister. I’m not sure what became of him though.” 

Ricochet shook, “Truly.” 

“On my spark,” Jazz promised. “I---” 

“It is time to go home,” Prowl said. “You may talk more when we get there.” 

Jazz took Prowl’s offered hand, and the femme motioned for Ricochet to follow as they left the facility. Jazz’s spark felt positively light under his chestplates.


	3. Chapter 3

Ricochet was quiet often. His optics would track Jazz across the room as the mech moved about Prowl’s home. Jazz didn’t blame him, it was obvious that the mech had been through an ordeal, and he did not want to push. Instead Jazz let the mech come to him. He tried not to move fast around the mech, tried to be patient. Sometimes it was hard, and Ricochet would disappear for sols into the little room that Prowl provided him. 

“Jazz? Are you really here?” 

“I am, carrier, why wouldn’t you think so?” Jazz said, and sat down beside the older mech. “I know what my sire said, but even she would not be able to get away with that. She did not kill any of us, I promise.” 

“I don’t know. I think she might have given Sonata to Vortex. I know...I...that she has---” 

“Shhh....I will talk to Prowl about it. She will figure it out for us. She’s a good femme. Really good. I promise. She won’t betray us, and she will keep us safe,” Jazz said.

“No. No. You can’t trust them. They lie. All they say is lies,” Ricochet whispered. 

“Prowl doesn’t lie. He has been very good to me, carrier. He brought you home for me. So I could get to know you, and I really want to. I want you to know your grandsparklings. I want you to have a life with us,” Jazz said, and hugged the mech suddenly. “I remember you. Did you know? I remember you holding me. You cried when they took me away. You wanted me. Didn’t you?” 

It was several kliks before Ricochet relaxed against him, “I did. Very much. But I...I did not want her to have you. She would have hurt you. Offlined you. I wanted to keep you safe.” 

“Thank you for caring enough to keep me safe,” Jazz said. 

“You are my sparkling, I love you and it is my job to do the best I can for you. I’m sorry it wasn’t more. I’m sorry I wasn’t better,” Ricochet said, vocalizer crackling. 

“You did the best you could, and you are here with me. I can’t tell you how happy that makes me,” Jazz said, holding on tightly to his carrier. 

“I’m happy to be here too. Sometimes I think it’s all a recharge flux, and I’m still in that horrible place, but I’m not...and that in itself is a miracle.” 

“It’s real,” Jazz smiled. “Sometimes I think I’m dreaming to, I guess. Never thought I’d end up with someone like Prowl. She doesn’t treat me like a thing. I heard so many stories in the breeding center. I was scared I would end up with someone like...someone like....” 

“Someone like Astraea?” 

Jazz gasped, and nodded. “I heard things...bad things about her.” 

“She is a cruel femme, and I’m sorry to say that Flamewar is her in miniature. There is nothing of me in that one,” Ricochet whimpered. “I saw her take apart mechs. It was horrible.” 

“It sounds like it. She sounds terrible. Scary,” Jazz vented heavily. “Enough of this unhappiness. Have you fueled today? THere are some energon treats left if you would like to have some. I made them last sol.” 

Ricochet’s lips curled, “I would like that.”

OoOoOoOo

Prowl had been losing recharge, but she could not tear herself away from the case files or the mound of data she had compiled about Astraea and her daughter. It was devastating how long the list of crimes were, and those were only the ones she knew of. All against mechs. There was no repercussions against what they had done, at the very worst monetary fines. It wasn’t enough. It left Prowl tied in knots and fretting terribly. 

There was no legal avenue to fix this. No form of justice for what Jazz or Ricochet had suffered, and it tore her up inside. 

“Prowl?” Jazz’s sleepy voice broke her out of her train of thought. “Are you coming to berth?” 

“In a bit,” she mumbled. “I’m just looking over some things.” 

Jazz moved close, and wiggled his way into her lap, obscuring the datapad she had been looking at. He plucked the tablet away, and frowned at it’s contents. “Prowler, what are you doing? Going after her is dangerous. I don’t want to see you hurt.” 

She wrapped her arms around Jazz, pulling him close. “She should pay for what she did.” 

“I’m safe, and so is my creator. I think that matters more than any kind of retribution,” Jazz whispered. “I don’t want you to get hurt. I don’t want to lose you. Please.” 

“Jazz...” 

“No, please. Hear me out.” He guided Prowl’s hand to his middle, and place it firmly against the plating. his own hand covering up Prowl’s. “Your sparkling needs you. I need you. Please just let it go.” 

Prowl froze, and looked down at Jazz with wonder, “What? Are you sure?” 

“I’m positive, but we can have a medic confirm it if need be,” his lips curled into an amused smile. “Are you happy to hear it?” 

Prowl pulled him close, “I am beyond happy, Jazz.” He pet Jazz’s plating, kissing him gently, “This is the happiest news I’ve ever heard.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompts-  
> Sold verse: Prowl/Jazz- don’t try to steal her mech  
> Sold verse: Flamewar + Astraea- Justice at last

Prowl was leary of taking Jazz out in public once she found out that he was carrying. She just did not trust other femmes to take the care that her mech deserved. She know he was not a fragile thing, but she still worried for his safety. 

She had hoped that they would be safe in the market. it was a very public place. Very open, and yet she had an uneasy feeling as they walked through the stalls. 

Prowl’s optics narrowed. Jazz had walked away from her one moment in the market, stopping to look at a panel of organic fabric, and the next thing she knew he was screaming so loud his vocalizer crackled. Prowl ran, throwing herself at the mech that was trying to steal her mech and tore into him. Her claws ripped into plating, heedless of the mechs cries or the way he tried to scramble away. “What are you doing,” she growled. 

The mech that had tried to pull Jazz away fell to the hard ground and cringed away. “I’m sorry, mistress! I’m sorry. My master s-said to bring the mech to her. I’m sorry. I meant no harm. I was only doing with I was told.” 

Prowl frowned and looked down at the doorwinger on the ground. He looked to be in horrible condition. His plating was dull, and his optics dim. There was old scars on his plating that had never quite healed. “Who is your mistress?” 

“F-flamewar, m-mistress,” the little mech stammered. 

“You will be coming with me. Under code C-098742 under the new laws regarding the keeping of mechs you will come with me. You are under my protection now,” Prowl stated, and glared at the crowd that had began to form around them. Her optics sought out a femme at the back of the crowd. “I will see you charged for this, Flamewar.” 

The mech on the ground whimpered, “She’ll kill me.” 

“No. She won’t. Get up.” 

Prowl put his arm protectively around the small, damaged little mech.

OoOoOoOo

Prowl took the little mech straight to Ratchet, and watched over him as the femme medic recorded and cataloged the mech’s many injuries. He was in far worse shape that he initially appeared. Everything was document, and added to the evidence that Prowl compiled and finally presented to Lady Megatron. The femme was just as angry as Prowl had been in the market. If not moreso. 

“Arrest them,” Megatron growled. “This sort of behavior will not be tolerated.” 

Prowl bowed deeply, “As you wish, your ladyship.” It was one order she had no trouble carrying out.

OoOoOoOo

Prowl stood back and watched as the enforcers swept past her and into the compound that they were raiding. It was by order of the Lady High Protectress. After Megatron had gone through the evidence that Prowl had gathered she had been as angry as Prowl. It was their duty as femmes to keep their mechs safe, and this horrible pair had done everything but that. The evidence was of such was still resting in Prowl’s home. The mech that they had rescued, Crystalwave was still in poor health. His spark weakened from nearly a vorn of abuse. It was a wonder that he had survived so long. As it was he would never be able to carry a sparkling to term, not without considerable risk to his own life. 

The enforcers dragged about Astraea and Flamewar from their home, neither femme went willingly. “You can’t do this to me!” Astraea screamed. “We are high caste! You have no right!” 

“Perhaps I may not,” Prowl said, “But her Ladyship does.” 

Astraea froze, and growled, bearing sharp fangs, “I will make you pay for this.” 

Prowl watched the other femme with a blank expression on her face. “No. You will not. By order of her Ladyship you will be transported to Garrus 9. Your sparks will be imprisoned until her Ladyship deems you repentant for your crimes.” 

“You can’t do this!” Flamewar screamed as she and her creator were dragged from the room.

Prowl stared at the door for a long time, spark hammering in her chest. She would not relax until she knew that both femmes were secure in the prison and well away from her carrying mate, and the the little Praxian they had rescued. She trusted that her sister was keeping them both safe in the meantime.


	5. Chapter 5

Crystalwave looked to the femme that had been left to watch both him and the enforcers mate. He wasn’t sure what to make of her. She seemed just as taciturn as her sister. Serious all the time, but she also seemed relatively safe. Crystalwave had not felt that way in ages, bot since he had been taken from the colony that he lived in and brought to Astraea and Flamewar. His spark never stopped paining him since that day. It was hard not to recall the way they had sliced through the casing, and into the crystal itself. It had never quite healed right. 

Jazz flopped down beside him, and pulled him into a tight hug. “You shouldn’t worry, Prowl will make sure you are kept safe.” 

“I’m sure she will, but what will become of me? She won’t want to keep me here indefinitely...I’m not her responsibility. No one will want me either. I’m broken. I can’t have sparklings. What good is a mech that can’t have sparklings?” 

“I’m sure someone will want you,” Jazz said, and pat Crystalwave’s shoulder gently.

“You will find someone,” Barricade said, optics brightening, “Any femme that would not want a mech as sweet as you are is surely mad.” 

“There are a lot of mad femmes in the world,” Crystalwave whispered. “I know. They tried to offline me.” 

“But you survived,” Barricade said. “You are a very tough little mech. It’s an admirable quality, my lovely.” 

Crystalwave’s doorwings fluttered gently, “You think so? Really?” 

The femme’s lips curled up, “I do, sweet mech. Truly.”

OoOoOoOo

_Barricade remembered when Prowl had carried the injured mech in. They had had to have a medic called because Prowl was afraid to transport the little mech that far. He had not been in good shape at all. Barricade was not even sure how the mech had managed to survive so long. It was clear that is armour was brittle. It was also dull, and full of fissures. Barricade had never seen armour like that. It was strange._

_The medic had come far more quickly that Barricade would have expected, and fussed over the little mech, hooking him up to a mineral drip._

_“I need you to take him to the medical facility as soon as he is more stable,” the medic had said. “His systems are very weak. Especially his spark. I am not sure how he has he has survived so long.”_

_“Do you know how bad it is?” Prowl asked._

_“I won’t know the full extent of the damage until we can do a thorough scan of his systems,” the medic had said with a frown on her face. “Her Ladyship wants a full catalog of his condition. She has said she would take on the full cost to get him healed.”_

_“I had expected as much,” Prowl had replied. “Her Ladyship is kind.”_

_“She is,” the medic had agreed, and waited around until the mineral drip had completed, and left special energon for the mech._

OoOoOoOo

Crystalwave had slowly came back to health. Prowl took him to the medical facility often, and he was on a special diet of mineral infused energon. His armour had lost the dullness and finally took on a crystalline sheen. It reminded Barricade of Prism. The mech was famous for being the model in many of Sunstreaker’s paintings. Barricade was more than a little enamoured with the mechs beauty. Crystalwave was not just a pretty face though, he was also sweet and thoughtful. Far more kind than Barricade imagined that she would be had the same happened to her. 

“Is something wrong,” the little mech whispered. “You keep staring.” 

“You are very beautiful,” Barricade said. “And so very sweet.” 

The little mech quivered. The doorwings on his back did not quite match the rest of him. The medic had to replace the ones that had been sloppily attached on before, and clearly those had not been his original doorwings. The new set were slowly changing to match the rest of his frame, but the medic said it would be several decacycles if not more before that happened. “No...I’m not. I look horrible. My wings don’t match. They don’t hurt at least. The other pair hurt so badly. Everytime they would move. I don’t know what the medic t-that my m-mistress hired did, but they hurt.” 

“Oh, I’m so sorry to hear that. It feels better now though...doesn’t it? They are starting to turn crystalline like the rest of you,” Barricade said carefully. “Perhaps you can return home. Prowl has been sending home what mechs that they rescue. The ones still unbonded.” 

Crystalwave cringed, “No...I...no. I never had anyone there. My creators offlined when I was young. I was running the streets, and that was how they caught me.” 

“Well, then...we will keep you safe until you can find a good femme. Someone that you want and who wants you back.” 

“That is kind of you. I’m not sure that is fair to Prowl through. I’m a burden. One she should not be responsible for,” Crystalwave whispered. 

“Don’t say that. She is more than happy to help you, and so am I,” the femme said and patted Crystalwave’s hand gently. “We just want to see you happy and safe.” 

Crystalwave looked doubtful, but nodded eventually. “You have been good to me, I’m thankful for that...and everything else.”

OoOoOoOo

Crystalwave stayed inside Prowl’s home as much as the Praxian would allow. Mostly he was left to keep Jazz company since Prowl and Barricade were both busy working on breaking up the slavery ring. 

He barely saw the femmes, and Jazz kept him busy anyway. The mech was on berth rest. His carrying cycle was not an easy one, but Crystalwave did not mind helping him. It kept him busy, and he enjoyed Jazz’s company besides. They would curl together, and watch vids or read data pads together. 

Sometimes Prowl would drop off one of his younger sisters, Bluestreak, and they would watch her as well. She was a sweet and made Crystalwave yearn for a femme of his own and sparklings.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 4.Sold verse: Barricade/Crystalwave - courting

Barricade watched the little Praxian that her sister had brought home. He was a delicate thing with fragile looking armour. He was exotic looking, his plating took on a blue, iridescent hue once it started healing, but that was not what drew Barricade in. No, it was the mech’s sweet disposition. Despite all that had befallen him he was still even tempered, and kind. 

“Crystalwave? Would you like to accompany me to the crystal gardens today?” the femme asked. “I have something I would like to speak with you about.” 

Crystalwave’s wings flicked in shock. “I see. Yes, I think I would enjoy that,” he said with a little smile, and ducked his helm shyly. “Are you sure?” 

Barricade took his hand in her own, “Very sure. I have thought of little else since you came to live with us.” She lead Crystalwave out of Prowl’s home and towards the gardens, keeping a hold of him as they made the short walk. 

“Oh?” 

“You are a very sweet mech. Just the kind of mech that I have always longed for. You are...I like you. I just like everything about you. I’ve never met a spark that is so beautiful inside and out.” 

“I’m nothing special,” Crystalwave whispered, and looked down at the ground. “I’m...I’m used goods, Barricade. I think maybe...no...I know that you deserve better.” 

“I don’t want better. I want you,” the femme said firmly, and stopped in front of Crystal wave. She dropped to one knee, taking both his hands in her own. “I want to make a life with you. Will you please allow me to court you?” 

Crystalwave stared down at Barricade, stunned. “Yes,” he finally managed to get out.


End file.
